Pork Chop the Dog rules our house. He weighs 13 pounds and most of that is attitude. He is all bark and no bite; in fact, he barks at everything.

Oddly, when Mrs. Cat showed up for the first time, Pork Chop was silent. None of his staccato barking, no jumping high into the air to express displeasure with an alien in his house; just a sniff and a growl of acceptance marked her addition to the family along with four little loudly mewing furball kittens born a weeks later under the boy’s bed.

Pork Chop is King of the House. Surely then, Mrs. Cat is the reigning Queen. Regally, she stalks through different rooms, terrifying all the mice by eating their kith and kin, while at the same time paying no more attention to the little Russian Rat Terrier than if he were invisible.

Lately, for some reason, Pork Chop has developed a taste for cat food and he comes instantly if someone calls, “Here, kitty, kitty, kitty.”

It’s just strange.

The cat and kittens are doing fine, but the dog needs therapy if you ask me.